


Pointe Technique

by Brightki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 00:10:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14964890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brightki/pseuds/Brightki
Summary: Harry, fantastic pianist, meets Pansy, perfect ballerina, and falls hopelessly in love.Drunk Drabble! Within my Linen Rope Universe.





	Pointe Technique

**Author's Note:**

  * For [provocative_envy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/provocative_envy/gifts).



The first time Harry saw her was during rehearsals.

Ginny laughed at something he said before skipping off to the other girl with a pat on his head. He was sitting at the piano, so for once she could actually reach the ruffled mess of hair and he only sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a dog,” he grumbled under his breath as he idly tapped at a few ivory keys. Bright green eyes couldn’t look away from the slim girl in the black leotard and slouchy green leg warmers, her blonde hair pulled up and back, tightly wrapped into a perfect bun without a single flyaway or misplaced strand.

The other girl smiled, a small tight smile as though remembering an older woman’s questionable advice ( _Never smile too wide, you will get wrinkles_.), when Ginny approached and they chatted for a long moment as they warmed up for rehearsal.

Harry’s eyes never left the blonde girl, watching her shift through poses and moves with ease.

—

He learned later, from Ginny, that her name was Pansy Parkinson. He kept asking questions of his ex-girlfriend (amicably split, the summer before). Who was she, where did she come from, why hadn’t he seen her before?

She finally spilled that Pansy did not go to Hogwarts Academy, she was attending Beauxbaton Academie des Arts in ballet. Harry was anxious to see her again at the next rehearsal he played.

—

It was another week and a long conversation with Hermione, who he noted at the time was being awfully secretive lately but was also crazy happy so he would confront her about it another time, before he finally approached Pansy.

“Ah, hey. Pansy, right?” Harry squeezed his leather coat in his hand, tilting his head as he looked down at the petite blonde girl.

Her head barely came to his shoulder, but the way she looked at him made him feel like she was towering over him.

“Yes?” Her eyes flickered down his tall form, lingering on his jeans (artfully torn and expensive as  _fuck_ ) and black jacket, still clutched in his hand.

“I just wanted to say hi. My name’s Harry and I just, uh, Ginny’s a friend of mine? And told me your name and I just thought maybe you’d like to go for a cup of coffee?” He swallowed hard, earnest green eyes peering down at her.

Pansy arched a thin perfectly manicured brow as she straightened up, holding her dance bag by the short straps in one hand. “A cup of coffee?”  
Harry hesitated, his head tilting slightly to the side like a bird. “Ye-es? You and I? There’s a Starbucks just around the corner, maybe you know that already… rehearsal is over, and I still have a paper to write and need some caffeine. You could get some tea if you’d rather?” He winced, shoving his free hand into his hair and pushing it back from his face.

Pansy pursed her lips, eyes moving over his entire length again before she smiled, slow and full of gleaming white teeth. “Sure. I could use a cup of tea.”

—

Harry counted that as their first date.

Pansy thought it was ridiculous ever to count stopping for coffee and an hour long conversation as a first date.

Their first  _official_  date was when he picked her up from her flat, and they went to an actual restaurant.

She appeared only slightly surprised to learn that his godfather and guardian was the old rocker Sirius Black (her mother had been a big fan of the Marauders) and that he had taught Harry how to play piano after his parents had died.

He was not at all surprised to learn that she had been doing ballet since three and was planning on performing professionally.

She read much more than him, and when he mentioned his friend Hermione was also a big book lover, she tilted her head and smirked at him. “You’ll have to introduce us.”

—

He was unaccountably nervous about introducing her to any of his friends, but it went really well. Hermione figuratively scooped Pansy up walked with her during the party, chatting away as though they were old friends.

Ron sidled up to Harry and while watching the two girls chatting, narrowed his eyes. “Did Hermione know Pansy before tonight?”

Harry shook his head slowly, his eyes also on the two girls. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Huh. They seem friendly.” Ron squinted once more before shrugging and shotgunning his beer. “Right, let’s do this!” He passed another beer to his best friend, who was still watching Pansy as though his eyes were physically attached to her arse or tits (Ron couldn’t decide which, though she wasn’t nearly as curvy as he preferred) before shotgunning another.

—

When Harry found out that Pansy, Ginny, and Hermione had spent all of an afternoon at a spa together, he started to worry about the blonde and ginger’s influence on the brunette (and was slightly afraid that he was beginning to cultivate the makings of a real-life joke.)

When Hermione made a crack about Harry still not sleeping with Pansy yet, he knew he had reason to worry about the other two and their influence on his best friend.

—

The first time they do have sex is awkward, of course it is because every first time is awkward (at least, that was what Harry kept telling himself for a long while after, even after it had gone beyond awkward and to awesome).

—

After graduation and Hermione finally confessed to Harry about her on-going relationship (with a  _professor_  ?! from their  _school_  ?!), Pansy let him rant and rave for hours on end before looking him in the eye and with a finger digging into his chest asked, “But is she happy?”

Harry froze and stared down at the little finger poking in his chest with a dark purple nail attached to the pale perfection that was his  _girlfriend_.  

His bright green eyes moved up her arm to her face before he reached out and hauled her close. “Yes, she’s happy.” And he kissed her pink painted lips and mussed her perfect blonde hair.


End file.
